


Thorin Oakenshield/Reader Imagines and Drabble Requests

by FizzyCustard



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2018-12-17 11:07:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 12,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11850309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FizzyCustard/pseuds/FizzyCustard
Summary: A selection of Thorin Oakenshield and reader insert drabbles requested by people during my time on Tumblr.





	1. Drabble One

**Imagine that you and Thorin are separated; you come home and Thorin is in Middle-earth. But he upholds his promise to always find you. He looks different upon entering our world to get you but you automatically recognise him by his eyes.**

_Requested by fullvoidmoon.tumblr.com_

 

 

Every night you dreamed of Thorin, plagued by the fact you would never see him again. You cried yourself to sleep, your heart broken. You had never allowed to love anyone before, but when you had met Thorin after miraculously appearing in another world, you knew that denying your love for the Dwarf King would be impossible. The last time you had seen him and you had shared a kiss in the barn where Beorn resided, just off the edge of Mirkwood. 

Then you had woke from your deep sleep, where you had snuggled beside Thorin, warm in his arms, only to find yourself back in your home world. In terror, grief and pain you had tried every way to get back to Thorin; going to psychics, people who dabbled in magic, and no one could offer you a way back to Middle-earth. 

All you had left were your memories, so beautiful and full of love. But now you had to survive in a world without Thorin. How would you cope? The days were always lonely, dark and long. You yearned for him, every fibre of your being crying out for his touch, and to be paired with his voice and his gaze that penetrated you to the core. 

One day and you pulled yourself out of bed, trying your damned hardest to make it through another day. You made breakfast, washed and dressed yourself, and then got in your car to run errands. The whole world had kept on going without out, and now that you were back it was as though your absence would never be recognised. 

After putting petrol into your tank, you decided to drive into the country. You had always enjoyed sitting in the countryside when you were growing up. However, Thorin’s voice filtered through into your thoughts as you stopped your car and got out. His deep, baritone voice, which always wrapped around you like soft silk, resounded in your ears. On the night you had kissed he had promised you one thing. “If we were to ever be parted, I will always find you.” 

The sun was high in the sky with no cloud in sight. 

You heard footsteps behind you, but the glare of the sun made it impossible to see who was approaching. Until you could make out the figure of a tall man, with short dark hair and well trimmed facial hair. 

His face finally came into focus and you gasped, air catching in your throat and knocking you off balance. Those eyes. You would recognise those eyes anywhere, despite the rest of him looking so different. 

“Thorin,” you whispered, tears filling your eyes. 

“I will **always** find you.” 

 

 


	2. Drabble Two

**Imagine you are assisting in styling Thorin’s hair before his coronation ceremony. He asks you to choose your favourite style and beads for him.**

_Requested by bespectacled-bunny.tumblr.com_

 

 

On the morning of Thorin’s coronation ceremony you waited patiently outside his bed chamber door after you’d knocked. And then you heard his voice demand you enter. You were to style his hair, making sure that it was presentable for such a special occasion as this. 

“Good morning,” you said, offering him a smile as you walked over to his desk, placing your box of hair styling items down. Inside were combs and beads, all made specially for today. The beads were individually engraved with Khuzdul runes, bestowing blessings from Mahal upon the newest ruler of Erebor. 

Thorin approached you and sat down in the chair with his back to you, ready to have his hair styled. 

“Do you have a particular style in mind, my Lord?” you ask, looking at him though his reflection in the full length mirror in front of you both. 

Thorin just smiled. “Will you choose for me? I trust your judgement.” 

Since his return to Erebor, Thorin had had many a conversation with you in private, forming a friendship with you. He had told you many personal things about himself, and assumed that maybe it was because of you being female you would have had more compassion and understanding in your heart. Perhaps if he had told his close male friends they would not have been so accepting as you. However, you were human, and Thorin had still confessed his inner most thoughts to you. 

You began to style his hair, drawing half of his hair back, brushing it carefully and then braiding it. “Which bead would you like?” you ask, reaching across to the box beside you. 

“Will you choose?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Why are you allowing me to choose for something as special as today?” 

Thorin turned in his chair as you still held the unclasped braid in your hand. “Because you, too, are special, my dear one.” His blue eyes remained locked on yours. “Do you not know that in the Dwarf custom we will only allow those who have our heart to braid our hair?”


	3. Drabble Three

Imagine Thorin getting jealous when you’re asked to dance by someone else at a royal feast celebrating Durin’s Day.

_Requested by an anonymous user on Tumblr._

 

A dashing Dwarf stood before you in the main hall as music began to echo around the spectacular grand room. Tonight was a feast which marked Durin’s Day, a whole year since the mountain had been re-claimed by Thorin and his Company, of which you had been a part of. 

You had come to Middle earth unexpectedly, disappearing from your world. But you had grown so accustomed to the culture of the Dwarves now, working as a humble maid. Most days and you would flit between all the main royal quarters of Erebor, making sure each one was clean, tidy and all bedding was changed regularly. 

This Dwarf in front of you had been pursuing you now for a couple of months, trying to make simple conversation with you when you passed him as he stood guarding the main front gates of Erebor. He was only a young Dwarf, having recently become a guard and following in his father’s footsteps. However, you had no interest in him romantically and could not reciprocate his interest. 

Another Dwarf had your heart. 

For tonight though you decided to dance with him, and together you swayed to the music, laughing at each other as you nearly tripped up twice over his large boots. After a while and you sensed someone staring at you and looked behind the guard’s shoulder to see Thorin’s gaze burning into you both and his jaw clenched tight. You couldn’t help but raise your eyebrow at his reaction, and watched as he moved over towards you. 

“May I dance with her now?” Thorin asked sharply, staring the guard down angrily. 

“Y…yes, my Lord,” the guard answered nervously and dashed away into the crowds of swirling bodies. Thorin took your hand and wound his other arm around your waist. You gasped as you were pulled towards him. 

“Why are you angry?” you asked, shocked by Thorin’s sudden bad mood. 

“Do I need to make my intentions any more obvious?” he asked with a sigh. 


	4. Drabble Four

**Imagine that you and Thorin are separated. You have returned to your home world and he is still in Middle earth, but is frantic to get to you.**

_Requested by buckyoakenshieldxo.tumblr.com_

 

 

Thorin had been searching for you frantically for the past hour, calling your name with no response. “Where is she?” Thorin hissed at Bilbo and Gandalf. “Surely she cannot…”

Gandalf looked at Thorin cynically. “Surely if she appeared here with no warning, then she can leave again just as suddenly,” the wizard said. 

“I must find her!” Thorin growled. “I will not continue on without her at my side.” 

“You cannot sacrifice the quest for the sake of her,” Gandalf said. “We have limited time.” 

Thorin’s eyes grew fierce. And Bilbo looked up at Gandalf with apprehension. “Gandalf, I don’t think it’s wise to provoke Thorin,” Bilbo said softly. 

“You are right, Master Baggins,” Thorin snapped. “Do not try me, Gandalf!”

Gandalf closed his eyes and sighed. “Maybe I know of a way to cross worlds and for you to go to her.” 

Once Gandalf had spoken the incantation, opening a portal, Thorin disappeared with a huge, blinding flash of light and found himself standing beside a field in the blazing sunlight. He looked down at his hands, noticing that they were longer, and more slender. His long hair had disappeared and he looked down to see that he was higher from the ground; Gandalf’s magic had also altered his appearance. But for now that could wait. 

In the distance and Thorin could make out a black vehicle, of which he had never seen before. It was on four wheels and made of metal. Next to the vehicle was a figure. It was you. There was no mistaking you. 

Thorin approached you, feeling a sigh of relief pass his lips. You looked up at him and whispered his name, and he promised you he would always find you. 

“My love,” he whispered and swept you into his arms, taking your lips against his in a long, hungry kiss. 


	5. Drabble Five

**Imagine rescuing Kili from the wargs and Thorin is grateful. However, you aren't very trusting toward the Dwarven King, but as you get to know Thorin, you realise you're both not so different after all.**

_Requested by fandomgalcentral.tumblr.com_

 

 

Adrenaline pumped through you as a warg raced towards Kili, bearing its teeth and ready to attack the young Dwarf Prince. You swiftly put an arrow to your bow, pulled back the string and let the arrow fly through the air, hitting the disgusting creature between the eyes. Kili’s eyes were wide in shock as the animal fell down on the ground, taking its last breath. 

You raced with the rest of the Company towards an entrance in the earth and jumped inside, each one of you sliding down into a tunnel. 

Thorin looked towards you and nodded his head, silently thanking you for saving the life of his younger nephew. Your face remained straight and you looked away, not trusting the Dwarf one iota. In fact, you trusted none of them. You had only accompanied them a short way so far on the journey, saving quite a few of their necks along the way. You only wished to be back in Rivendell now alongside your kin where you would finally feel more at peace. 

When you had entered Rivendell and the Dwarves, hobbit and wizard took to feasting, you remained alone in one of the libraries. Hours always passed by so quickly when you ventured in here and found yourself lost in the many texts which were placed neatly on the shelves. But the fact you were alone made you think back on your family who had been brutally murdered in your younger years. Your mother, father and younger sister had been killed by a nest of spiders on Mirkwood. You had been freed of such a fate, only graced by the luck of being a trainee guard under the supervision of Tauriel and Legolas. After your family’s deaths and you found refuge in Rivendell. You had always felt that you had dishonoured your family by running from Mirkwood, but the painful memories of their deaths was something you could not allow yourself to keep re-living. 

Under the moonlight you rested your arms against a balcony and watched the stars, praying that your family were happy now in the afterlife. When you had said your prayer, you turned around to see Thorin Oakenshield behind you. 

“I wish to thank you for saving my nephew,” Thorin said, his face straight, not showing any emotion. 

“You are _thanking_ me, Dwarf? You allow yourself to be lowered to such a point that you would thank an Elf?” you spat sarcastically. 

Thorin growled. “Do you not accept words of thanks at all? I do not offer those words to you lightly, _Elf_! I have lost many of my people and my own family, and I do not intend to let my nephews down. It is my duty to protect them. I owe my sister that.” 

“At least you have a sister to go home to!” you hissed. “I lost mine because I was too blinded by my ambition to be a guard, and training took precedence over my own family. So my mother, father and sister paid the price.” 

“Why do you speak to me as if I am the one to blame for such evil? My people were killed by Smaug, my grandfather slain by Azog, but I do not place that on anyone else’s shoulders. And you also are not to blame for your family’s deaths. This world is being consumed by darkness and it is our responsibility to take back that which is rightly ours.”

You looked at Thorin, truly shocked by his words. Why was he speaking with you on such a personal level? Dwarves and Elves had not looked upon one another favourably for many generations. You sighed, realising that the Dwarf was right. He too had known death and loss. Maybe there was something you could learn from his words. 


	6. Drabble Six

**Imagine Thorin admitting his love to you whilst on the quest to re-claim Erebor, but due to your crippling insecurity you can’t believe him and start avoiding him. But he doesn’t understand why and thinks you don’t love him return.**

_Requested by queenmariatheresia.tumblr.com, ealasaid.tumblr.com and thatgirlunderarock.tumblr.com_

 

 

You had been on the quest now with the Dwarves for a couple of months, becoming an integral part of the Company. Most nights and you would take watch, often paired with Fili or Kili, and you would wind up laughing with them, explaining about customs from your world that they couldn’t understand. The Dwarves respected you, calling you one of their own as you all travelled together on the quest to take back Erebor.

However, all of this had changed. While in Mirkwood, locked in a cell, Thorin had revealed his feelings for you. Due to a shortage of cells, you had been put with Thorin and the tension had grown so thick in the air between you both. True, you adored Thorin with your every breath, and your love for him had only grown more intense with each passing day. He sat beside you, curling his arms around you to keep you warm. You had felt his lips on your head and his arms tighten around you. 

“Amrâlimê,” he whispered. 

You turned to look at him, your eyes meeting his and you blushed. You may have been from another world, tossed into unfamiliarity, but the look in his eyes and the way his voice spoke that word made a shiver rack through you, pooling pleasurably in your stomach. Then he moved closer, taking your lips against his and brushing his hand up into your hair. You both kissed hungrily for a few seconds, your breath becoming pants and his name escaping your lips in a moan. 

But you stopped. 

Questions swam in Thorin’s eyes as you moved away from him. But sadness soon filled his face and he looked away, tearing his gaze from you. That had been a week ago. Now you were in Lake-town, a place that smelt of fish and dirt, making your stomach churn constantly. And you had avoided Thorin, sticking close to Fili or Bilbo. He would look across the room at you, wanting for you to meet his gaze, but you always looked away. How could someone as beautiful as Thorin Oakenshield, rightful King Under the Mountain want you? You were nothing special; mediocre, slightly overweight, nothing at all to warrant such an man wanting your affection. 

Bilbo questioned you as you disembarked from the boat which had taken you from Lake-town to the outskirts of the ruins of Dale. “I know you love Thorin, so why are you avoiding him?” The question remained unanswered as you lied, telling the hobbit that you had urgent business with Balin to discuss and shot away. 

As you entered Erebor and watched Thorin reminisce in his old childhood memories of the mountain, you disappeared for a few moments into a small chamber, wanting to get away from the main group. You couldn’t hold it in any longer and began to weep, holding your hand to your mouth to stop yourself being heard. You rested your back against the stone wall and contemplated your presence in this world; no one needed you, and certainly not Thorin. 

Footsteps echoed from around a corner and your heart leapt painfully, thundering in your throat as Thorin appeared. “I must speak with you,” he whispered. Then he noticed your tear streaked face. “What saddens you?” he asked, reaching out to cup your cheek, but then stopping. “I…am sorry. I know you do not love me, and I was wrong to assume…”

“But I do love you, Thorin. More than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything in my life.” 

“Then why did you reject me?” Thorin asked, his voice low, almost cracking in sadness. “I do not understand.”

“I don’t deserve you. You’re about to be a King. What am I? Nothing. I never have been,” you replied, beginning to get frustrated in your insecurity. Your voice had grown louder, echoing. “I’m nothing, Thorin…And I can’t…” 

Thorin cut you off. “Come here,” he said, almost demandingly. He reached for you again and this time he pulled you closer to him by the waist whilst his other hand swept up your face and he kissed you. You kissed hard, and then his lips wondered down your neck. A groan wound its way up from your throat, exploding from your mouth as a gasp. 

And then Thorin put his forehead to yours. “You are worth everything I could ever give or do, and I want nothing more than for you to be my Queen.”


	7. Drabble Seven

**Imagine you are the Queen of Erebor, and Thorin is in a foul mood. You demand he sits down, and untie his braids and brush his hair. You know how to tame the angry King.**

_Requested by deepestfirefun.tumblr.com_

 

 

You knew full well that council had been hard for Thorin that afternoon. One of the long-standing council members from Thorin’s time in the Blue Mountains had become questioning of the King’s motives and reasoning for sending aid to Dale. It was as if he were constantly undermining Thorin’s negations with Bard in the re-building of Dale. 

By the end of the meeting and Thorin’s cheeks had been burning bright crimson, and his jaw was clenched tight. in a attempt to soften the volatile atmosphere, you had stood at the head of the table and kindly concluded the meeting. 

“You can’t let him get to you,” you told Thorin as you entered the bed chamber behind your husband. He had been silent since his exit from the council chamber. 

“How dare he question me!” Thorin boomed. “I have the last say where our money goes, and if we agree to send it to Dale, then so be it.” 

“Come and sit down,” you instructed, pulling out his chair from the writing desk. Slowly you guided Thorin to the seat, putting your hands on his shoulders in an attempt to comfort him. Your fingers drifted through his long locks, admiring the gentle wave that ran through them. One by one you unclasped his braids, unwinding the locks. 

In the Dwarf custom the braiding of hair always symbolised the intimacy of relationships. Upon beginning your courtship with Thorin and you had braided one another’s hair. Braiding hair between couples was almost as intimate and sacred as the act of making love. 

Thorin grond as you caressed his scalp. The sound of him enjoying the moment made pleasurable sensations wind down your spine and settle in the very pit of your stomach. You pulled his hair behind his ear and leaned forwards, kissing his neck. His earthy smell, mixed with leather wafted up your nose and spurred you on. You began sucking his skin, and in response you heard a low, guttural groan spill from his throat. 

“You do know what you will unleash, my love,” he warned. But you continued kissing his skin, becoming breathless in your need for him to let go and take you. 

You moved around so you were standing in front of him. His eyes were burning with lust and you couldn’t help but bite your lip in response, and tease the arm of your dress down, revealing more skin. 

“Do not tease me,” Thorin growled. 

You stepped towards him, placing your hands on his thighs and moved upwards towards his belt. There was a distinct bulge in his breeches. Then she straddled him, lifting your dress towards your hips and taking his hand, slipping it into your undergarments. 

“Why so tame?” you asked, kissing his lips. 

“I thought you liked to tame me. You wished to calm me.”

“I want you to show me the animal…but just for me.” 

 

 


	8. Drabble Eight

**Imagine being intimate with Thorin and kissing his battle scars one by one**

 

 

****

It had only been six weeks since Thorin had returned to Erebor, taking the throne and re-claiming the mountain and his kingdom, but all was far from well. Each and every night he tossed and turned, calling out into the darkness of your bed chambers. His state of mind worried you greatly; it was not only during the night that he seemed troubled by memories, but when in council or attending meetings, his attention would keep drifting away. 

But tonight was so much worse than you had encountered before. Thorin thrashed next to you, sweat dripping down his brow and his teeth clenched together. “Get away!” he shouted, and suddenly his eyes flew open and he shouted out, seemingly in pain. 

“Thorin? It’s alright. You’re safe,” you told him, rolling over so you were looking down at him. “My love, you’re alright,” you reassured, brushing your hand through his hair. He was panting and his eyes were still wide. Your other hand gripped his shoulder, trying to calm him and stop him leaping off the bed. 

He whispered your name and gradually the expression of shock dissipated from his face, leaving behind a weak smile. “I keep dreaming of losing you,” he told you. A tear slid down his cheek as he revealed the thing that had been troubling him, haunting him for so long. “Every night and I see Azog…charging towards you, and I cannot stop it.” 

You leaned down and kissed Thorin’s lips, feeling his beard brush against your skin, tickling you. “Thorin, Azog is dead. He can’t hurt us anymore. We’re all safe. You killed him at Ravenhill.” 

“That I know, my love, but the memories will always remain. Each one of my scars serves as a reminder to me of my fight to save not only the mountain, but you.” 

You looked down at the scars on Thorin’s body. Each one was still purple, in a raw state. Your fingers gently traced the ragged lines across his chest and then down his arms. Thorin looked up at you, never taking his eyes from you. “I love you,” you whispered to him and kissed him again. Slowly your lips moulded and your tongues met, deepening the kiss. And as your breath turned into pants, you let your lips slip away from his mouth and begin a gradual journey down his neck and onto his chest. You followed each scar, one by one, kissing them, and silently thanking him for his sacrifices and pain to keep you and the rest of Erebor safe. 

Thorin groaned, his back arching off the bed as you moved from his chest and down to his navel, taking your time and concentrating on one large scar next to his navel. Beneath your hand and you could feel the sweat accumulating. You moved your hand down, feeling the evidence of his arousal and want of you. 


	9. Drabble Nine

 

**Imagine you and Thorin are married. He suffers from the Dragon Sickness again and imprisons you, becoming suspicious of your movements. After gaining lucidity, he wishes to divorce you to save you from any more pain**

 

 

 

You and Thorin had been sleeping separately now for the last fortnight. All you could think of was that piece of parchment being presented to you, actioning the beginnings of divorce. But you had not signed, and had ripped the document up in front of Thorin, refusing to abdicate as Queen. 

“I made those vows on our wedding day to remain faithful to you until my last breath, and that is what I’m going to do,” you spat. 

“Just leave!” Thorin had roared. 

You were taken aback by his outburst, having never seen him so enraged, but you stood your ground, keeping your back straight and replied, “No.” 

Council and meetings had still continued on as usual, but you and Thorin had never touched in any manner, only sitting together purely for representation and appearances sake. Once council was over Thorin was always the first one to disappear from the room. Before his sickness had ensued, Thorin would normally sit beside you, his hand gently grazing your thigh beneath the table. All warmth and love had seeped from your marriage. 

Your imprisonment had been only for three days, and for the majority of it you could not remember. Thorin had been given a special medicine by Oin, formulated for the use of emergency surgery, rendering people unconscious. Thorin had used it on you, moving you to the dark, dreary cells many levels beneath your luxurious and comfortable bed chamber. In your state of drifting back and forth in and out of consciousness, Thorin had been watching you from the door, your right wrist shackled to the wall. In the midst of watching you from the cell door, Thorin had regained clarity, rushing inside and unchaining you from the wall, rocking you back and forth in his arms and weeping. 

One afternoon and you walked down the main hallway leading into your bed chamber, trying hard to hold back the impending tears. The pain was red hot in your chest and gut. Being severed from Thorin was like drifting lifeless, only existing for the sake of it, and not living. 

Thorin heard footfalls down the hall as he stood inside his shared bed chamber with you. His breath sped up and his heart hammered, knowing you were approaching. He had only intended to slip inside to catch the scent of you, to lift your pillow to his face. But he had gotten more than he first intended.

“Thorin?” you whispered, stepping inside the door. You saw his eyes widen at the sight of you and breath caught in his throat. You moved over to him. “Don’t push me away anymore.”

 Thorin looked at you, seeing your red eyes.  “You should have stayed in your world,” he said coldly. But you would never, ever regret your choice to stay with Thorin after finding yourself in this world, somehow being transported from your own. 

“Don’t you love me anymore….?” you asked, sobbing. “Am I really that bad?”

Thorin’s voice quivered and broke as he spoke. “I would tell you that I no longer love you if it meant you staying away from me…. but I cannot lie. Not that. I could never lie to you about that. My love has only grown for you. Every day since we wed, my love. I am not worthy of you. And I cannot hurt you again.”

You cupped his cheeks and watched him close his eyes and lean closer to your touch, kissing the palm of your left hand.

“I cannot hold back from you any longer,” Thorin whispered. “I ache and yearn for you every second…”

“Forgive yourself for what happened,” you told him. “I hold nothing against you. _Nothing!_ ” You leaned closer still and kissed him, feeling him automatically respond. Your kiss become incredibly deep as you had hungered for each other.

Within minutes Thorin was over you, your clothing on the floor of the bed chamber. You joined, loud groans passing your lips. “My love,” Thorin moaned loudly. All of the pent up lust, love and frustration was just at bursting point for both of you. You and Thorin only had to thrust back and forth half a dozen times before you came against each other, calling out and were swept away in the ecstasy.

You lay next to Thorin, resting your head on his chest and could feel the steady trickle of his seed between your thighs. You kissed him again, rising up over him as he lay on his back, his large hand curling around your head. Small pulses of the intense orgasm you had just had were still throbbing between your legs as you began to straddle him. You were well aware of Thorin’s incredible stamina, and it would only take a couple more minutes before he would be ready for another round of love making.

Whilst Thorin allowed himself to get ready again, he felt between your legs with his hand and began rubbing your sweet spot. “Come again for me, my love,” he whispered.

You smiled and rubbed yourself against his hand, teasing. “Do you still desire me, Thorin?” you asked. “Show me that dominance that flows through your veins,” you instructed. The sparks of arousal were shooting through you, and pulsing was becoming stronger and hotter between your legs. 

Thorin felt something spring to life between his legs and that all too familiar sensation of arousal began to ascend higher again. He growled, shifting up quickly toward you and grabbed you, pulling you around so he was behind you and you were now positioned on your knees. As Thorin prepared to take you, he clasped his hands inside yours and kissed your neck, smelling your hair. “My Queen…” he said, breathless against your ear.

 “Always,” you replied, your devotion to this man spilling forth. 

Thorin plunged into you, instantly feeling your body respond and grip him. You called out into the air, not caring who heard. You were finally united again with your husband.  You both thrust back and forth, Thorin growling. “Come for me,” he demanded sharply. And, as if on cue, you did. He distinctly felt the shudder of your body and the gripping sensation around his manhood. The waves of your orgasm washed over you, hitting a crescendo and coursed downwards through you. The sensations around him pushed him off the edge and he spilled. 

You rolled over and lay on your back, looking up at Thorin who was now resting over you. His arm curled around your head and his fingers brushed through your hair, and he smiled down at you. “Why did I think I could live without you in my life?” he asked. “You have done nothing but be loyal to me, remaining beside me through even the hardest of trials.”

“And I’ll carry on doing it, Thorin, until the day I die,” you replied. 


	10. Drabble Eleven

**Imagine Thorin loves you, and in his frustration at his seemingly unrequited love, he summons a prostitute. You hear of this and cry yourself to sleep. He comes to you, unable to give himself to anyone but you.**

 

 

 

Everywhere Thorin looked and he saw you. You had imprinted so deeply on his soul that his frustration to finally call you his was consuming him. But also was his insecurity. He had seen the other male Dwarves attempt to serenade you, and all Thorin could think was that you would prefer to have the honour of courting one of them, younger and livelier in their approach to life. Thorin was too headstrong and set in his ways, the way a King had to be. But if there was one thing he knew it was this: there was no other woman he would call Queen, but you. And if he never had you, Erebor would not have a Queen beside King Thorin II. 

You were going about your daily duties of preparing the royal bed chambers. Ever since you had come to Erebor since it had been re-claimed, you had enjoyed becoming a part of this beautiful kingdom. You were originally from many worlds away, finding yourself in Middle-earth, only to be swept up into a quest to re-claim a mountain, slay a dragon and conquer an army of orcs and other dark creatures. And along the way you had fallen madly in love with Thorin Oakenshield, the leader of the company of Dwarves who were heading back to Erebor to take back their kingdom from Smaug. After the taking of the mountain and Thorin’s victory at the Battle of Five Armies, you had remained with the Dwarves, unable to find a way back to your home world, but also wanting to be close to Thorin. 

Thorin waited with a heavy heart in his bed chamber for the woman to arrive. She had been asked to come to his room and spend the night with him in high hopes it would somehow cure him of his unrelenting frustration and deepening, unrequited love for you. And when she did arrive, clad in a midnight blue evening gown which was half falling from her arms, all he could see was you. She moved towards the King, resting her leg on the bed and then attempted to straddle him, her lips close to his. He whispered your name. 

“Tonight I can be anyone you want,” the woman whispered. 

But Thorin grit his teeth. “You can _never_ be her!” he growled, and shoved the woman aside. “Get out!”

You lay on your bed, weeping inconsolably into your pillow. Fili had told you of Thorin’s plans; he was going to take a prostitute to bed. Of course he still had his urges like any other male, and had every right to bed who he wanted. But all you could see in your mind’s eye was Thorin being intimate with someone who wasn’t you. Your heart was torn to shreds, and the tears fell down your face, soaking your pillow. Your back shuddered and your breath became gasps. Your dearest Thorin would never be yours. 

Sleep took you. 

You woke, feeling your head throb. And instantly the pain hit you hard again at the realisation you had woke back up into the same nightmare of knowing Thorin was being sexually intimate with someone else. 

Then there was a gentle tap at the door. You sniffed hard, rubbing the tears away from your face as quickly as you could, not wanting anyone to know you had been crying. 

But as you opened the door, you gasped. 

“I must speak with you,” Thorin told you. 

You let Thorin into the room, feeling your insides leap. 

“You have been crying. What is wrong?” Thorin asked, stepping towards you. 

“Nothing…I….”

Thorin could not hold himself back, his self control snapping. “I could not give myself to anyone else. My frustrations have been so intense of late, and I wanted to be void of these feelings I have….for you.” 

“For me?” You gasped again and your heart pounded in your chest, pulsating in your throat. 

Thorin swept your hands up into his. “I was too foolish. And I accept that you may not want me in the way I want you…”

“I do want you, Thorin. More than anything. But I heard you’d taken someone else to bed, and it broke me.” 

Thorin lifted your hands to his mouth and kissed them, then held them against his cheek. “I am so very foolish, my love. Forgive me. I wanted you and it was consuming me, and I felt you could never love me, and I wanted it all gone from me. But when she came to me, all I could see was you.”

You never spoke another word and pressed your lips to his, your whole being lifting upwards with joy and peace in your heart. 


	11. Drabble Twelve

**Imagine detesting your body and not wanting Thorin to see it. But he reassures you that he adores you and your body.**

 

 

In your world and you were considered ‘overweight’, ‘undesirable’, ‘unattractive’ and not the kind of person someone would be attracted to. And you had grown up detesting your stretch marks which glistened on the skin of your stomach, top of your breasts and upper arms. And now that you were in a group of all males, a mixture of Dwarves and a hobbit, you felt the words of self criticism rise in your mind again. The leader of the group was the one you had your eye on, and you would often steal a glance at him when he was talking to someone else, but you were sure he always sensed you watching him. Then you would turn away quickly, a blush spreading over your cheeks. 

However, you couldn’t deny that he seemed to look at you longer than most men did. He would look you in the eye, keeping that gaze locked with you and would often smile at you, studying you. How on earth could he want to look at you the way he did so often? 

You were sure he had overheard you talking with Bilbo one night, as soon after your conversation with the hobbit you decided to slip away and have a quick wash in the nearby river. You missed your daily shower, but bathing in a river was so relaxing and peaceful; you would listen to the birds tweeting overhead in the trees and you could hear the water as it washed against the foliage and rocks. Your suspicions of him overhearing you were confirmed. 

Thorin stepped out from behind a tree, only wearing his breeches. “May I bathe with you?” he asked, his hands easing the waist of his breeches down. In that moment you choked, spluttering on the gathering moisture in your mouth. 

“Um, yes, alright,” you replied, closing your eyes and turning away. Then you realised you were naked, so you dipped yourself below the water, not wanting Thorin to see your bare skin. It was ugly, a disgusting bastardisation of what the normal human body would look like. 

He approached you slowly, his gaze burning into yours. You looked away, unable to hold eye contact. “Look at me,” he instructed, stepping right up to you. “Your body is beautiful. Never allow anyone to tell you otherwise.” 

“How can it be beautiful?” you asked, looking away again. 

“No, look at me,” he told you again kindly, lifting your chin up with his hand. “Stand up straight and don’t hide away. Show your body and be proud of it.” 

You wanted to be obedient to him, naturally respecting him, but you also felt that insecurity and hate for your body pull you away. “I can’t,” you said. “You have no idea what it’s like coming from a society that condemns you for being overweight, having stretch marks and not being perfect in your proportions. I can’t even look at myself in the mirror.” 

Sadness washed over Thorin’s features as he listened to you speak, not understanding how anyone in their right mind could ever consider your form, or any female form for that matter, unattractive. Your broad hips, stomach rolls, stretch marks and full thighs distracted him daily, and to the point where he often had erections and had to disappear for a short time to either relieve himself or calm down. 

“Trust me, beautiful one,” he whispered. His lips came closer to you and then pressed gently against yours. You put your hands on his shoulders and deepened the kiss. And then you felt his hand cup your breast beneath the water and move downwards, tracing your curves. “So beautiful. I want to see you.” He pressed his forehead to yours and sighed. “Please, just trust me. I would never deceive you. Stand tall and be proud.” 

Your heart was thundering in your chest and you closed your eyes tightly as you stood up, your body from the waist up being revealed. You couldn’t even bring yourself to look upon Thorin’s reaction of your body. 

“You are like a goddess,” he said again, his voice low and full of lust. 

You opened your eyes to see Thorin studying you carefully, his blue eyes tracing every curve, every inch of flesh that he could see. “Trust me,” he whispered again. 

Catching you off guard, he picked you up in his arms, carrying you out of the river and into a small clearing where no one would disturb you. He knelt down and gently placed you down on the grass and began inspecting your body, each delectable inch at a time. 

You arched your back, groaning loudly as he kissed down you, whispering again and again that you were beautiful. His lips sent red hot shots of electricity down your limbs, which curled into a huge ball of heat at the juncture to your thighs and in the pit of your stomach. His hands eased your legs apart as he kissed your stomach and down the inside of each thigh. 

“Do you believe me now? Do you see how beautiful you are?” he asked, his lusting gaze meeting yours. 

In the clearing that night he took you, slowly and deeply, continuing to tell you how beautiful you were.


	12. Drabble Twelve

 

**Imagine Thorin pushing you away because he feels he is too old for you and is scared the sickness will take him again**

 

 

Thorin must have found out about your feelings for him from Fili, as you had confided in Fili a week earlier, explaining that you had been in love with the Dwarf King now since just after you had joined his Company to re-take Erebor. They had found you wondering on the Road just before reaching Beorn’s house. But your past was something, for the most part, you had kept to yourself. You were a human woman, and that was all you wanted any of them to know. 

You had been welcomed with open arms into the kingdom of Erebor once Thorin had been crowned, and took on cooking and cleaning duties. However, your close friendships with Fili and Kill meant that sometimes your work did not take precedence as it should have and you found yourself under fire by the main cook. 

One afternoon and Thorin summoned you to the main council chamber where he had just finished a series of meetings for the day. He smiled as you knocked on the door and let yourself in. “Good afternoon,” he said, pulling out a seat for you just across the table from himself. 

You felt fluttering in your stomach at the sight of him, that form you had been attracted to strongly since you first met. His blue gaze met yours and you couldn’t help but look down, feeling inferior to him. 

“I feel that I must address something which has come to my attention,” Thorin told you. “Fili has let it known you that you…have feelings for me. Is this true?” 

Damn Fili! You knew it was him. You had even asked him to promise to keep your feelings secret. 

“I wished he had of not said anything,” you replied, feeling a surge of heat hit your cheeks. 

He whispered your name, wanting you to look up at him. “You are chasing after something that I cannot give you. I am much…older than you, and my duties take priority at the moment with re-building, and my heart…would not be in it.” 

“You don’t have to go any further,” you told him, putting your hand up for emphasis. The room seemed to have suddenly become so much smaller, threatening to consume you. “I understand.” You couldn’t bear to here any more from him; he didn’t love you and his status of King would always mean more to him than you. 

“I am sorry,” he replied. 

“No, you’re not,” you spat impulsively. 

Thorin remained silent as you shot out of the door, breaking your heart as you raced down the hallway to your bed chamber. The door was slammed behind you as you got there, and you remained inside for two days. All you did was cry, sleep and look at yourself in the mirror, wondering what you could do to make yourself more worthy of Thorin. Maybe you needed to lose weight, be prettier, be funnier. Surely he would take a Queen at some point, and you would be forced to watch it unfold before your eyes, seeing the man you loved in the arms of another. 

After a further three days, you came back to your room after your duties to find a piece of parchment on the floor of your chamber. You opened the folded paper which had been slid under your door, only to see the beautiful handwriting of Thorin. 

_My dear one,_

_I ask that you will join me for dinner in my bed chamber at night fall. I must explain myself to you. I cannot allow things to remain the way they are between us. I eagerly await your arrival._

_Thorin_

Dear one? How dare he call you that! You wanted to tear the parchment up and throw it in his face at the sheer cheek for calling you such a name. Your heart was shattered and you found it hard to breathe, knowing that you would never be in his arms. 

But you did as requested and went along to his chambers anyway, waiting with baited breath to see what he had to explain. Probably more rubbish which just shadowed the fact that he didn’t love you and never would. 

You knocked on the door, and waited for him to answer. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest and then the lock slid across the door with a loud thud. He was so magnificent standing before you; those piercing eyes, that raven hair which had silver strands running through it, his heavenly lips which were slightly hidden beneath a well trimmed beard. 

You walked inside, keeping your hands locked together in front of you and took a brief look around the room at the many tapestries on the walls and the fur covered four-poster bed that you would never share with him. Thorin pulled one of two chairs out from beneath a finely carved table. On the table were trays of hot food and tumblers of wine and ales. 

“Why have you called me here, Thorin? You made it clear…” you argued, not even sitting down. 

“No, I did _not_ make myself clear,” he snapped. “I need to be honest with you. Please sit.” You responded to his request with a sigh, wanting to appear angry in front of him to cover your hurt. 

Thorin looked down, ashamed. Then he looked back up at you. “I should have told you the truth and not tried to hide behind the most painful lie I have ever had to tell. I have been in agony these last days, knowing that I was denying my feelings. Dwarves are led by their hearts and their instincts, and I was forcing myself to go against that. And it was crippling.” Thorin’s hand slipped across the table and rested around yours, picking it up gently. Tears welled in the King’s eyes. “I have not been able to live with myself.” 

Your floodgates opened and you let your fingers lock around Thorin’s and he gripped your hand tighter, putting it to his face. 

“But we cannot be, my love,” he said, closing his eyes. “You deserve someone who will be young for you, able to…”

“I don’t want anyone else, Thorin,” you told him. 

He looked at you, tears falling down his cheeks. “You need someone like my nephews. Fili would be a better match for you…”

“I don’t _want_ Fili!” you argued. “Maybe you don’t want me enough…I should just leave Erebor. I can’t stay.”

“Do you think I would rest? Knowing you are out in the wild by yourself?”“But I won’t be by myself. I’ll live in Dale and help with rebuilding." 

"I would need to have word every day that you are safe and happy." 

"There is only one future that would make me truly happy. What would you have me do? I can’t stay here and be tortured by these feelings of not having you, but knowing you feel the same.” You began to sob “I can’t stay here…let me go.”

“I cannot let you out of my sight. If we bind ourselves together there is no turning back. Once I have given myself to you, and you to me, we are sealed as one. I do not want you to regret your choice in me.” 

You got up from the chair, never taking your eyes from Thorin’s and straddled him. He groaned as you placed yourself on his lap. “Regret would never, ever be a part of this. I don’t want you so I can take your money or have power. You being King doesn’t hold sway over my feelings. I would love you as much if you had no title.“ Your voice was insistent as you argued your feelings. 

Thorin smiled. "That I am certain, my love. I know our love is pure. But you deserve someone who is young, and who will help you enjoy life. Are you sure this is what you want?” 

Your gaze never broke from his and you leaned forward. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.” 

You kissed, your bodies sinking into each other. And that night you bound your bodies together, making love passionately. It was slow, deep, tender and intense. Thorin kept telling you he loved you as he kissed down your body and his tongue delved into all the right places. Your bodies rocked together in a rhythm, synced, and kept on going way into the night.


	13. Drabble Thirteen

** Imagine you are Queen and organise a day of spoiling and pampering Thorin to help him relax after weeks of bad dreams.  **

 

 

Thorin struggled to sleep and had done now for almost six weeks since your wedding. Some nights you had found him awake next to you, reading through pieces of parchments which detailed trade deals with surrounding areas, mainly Dale, which was under reconstruction. His eyes would struggle to read the words under the dim candlelight as he was conscious of waking you. 

“Why are you up again?” you asked him most nights, turning towards him. And for a split second you would see a flash of embarrassment wash across his face and then disappear as he pushed it away, putting defiance in its place. You knew full well why he was always waking in the dead of night and why he was barely sleeping at all: he was being plagued by bad dreams. They would make him shake, sweat and shout out into the darkness. On a few occasions you had held him next to you, trying to settle him back to sleep. Thorin would listen to your heartbeat, allowing it to temporarily relax him and then drift back into another gut wrenching dream. 

He was re-living the Battle of Five Armies and the mental turmoil from Dragon Sickness. Dead bodies of his kin were scattered around him, Smaug was flying high in the air, sneering at him, Azog waited in the mist. Then he would drop to his knees before mountains of gold, feeling the need devour him. The Arkenstone would be in his hand, bright and calling to him. Then he would look to his left hand side and see you, bound and Azog would have a blade to your throat. 

“The Arkenstone or she dies!” Azog would demand. 

And that was always when Thorin woke, sweating. The uncertainty of which path he would take was pulling him apart, like a piece of loose thread in fabric. And he was unraveling little by little. 

For today you had made sure all of Thorin’s council meetings had been re-scheduled and Fili was on hand to step in to royal duties. Your husband needed some relaxation. Starting with breakfast in bed. 

A tap came to your bed chamber door, waking Thorin suddenly. 

“Who is it?” he snapped angrily. He dragged himself up out of the warmth of the furs, batting his tired and painful eyes. 

“Oh, stop being moody, Thorin,” you chuckled. “I’ll find out.” 

You were greeted by one of the head cooks from the kitchens who had a large tray of hot foot in their hands. “As requested,” he said happily, bowing his head in respect. “If you should need any more, please ask. Good morning to you both, my Queen.” 

Thorin crossed his arms, still in a grump from being woken. “I had only just moments ago drifted back to sleep,” he hissed. 

“Stop being ungrateful,” you told him and placed the tray down on the bed. “I ordered it specially for you.” 

Shame crossed Thorin’s face. “I am sorry, my love. I did not know you had gone to the trouble of this for me. Come and sit.” 

“I’m not hungry. It’s for you,” you told him, giving him a smile, but still a little hurt by his words. 

Thorin reached out for you. You laced your hand in his and leaned down, placing a kiss against his lips. The both of you kissed deeply for a minute or so, Thorin’s arm winding around your curvy waist. 

“There is far too much here for just me,” Thorin chuckled, looking down at the tray. “Come and share with me.” 

You and Thorin shared your breakfast, him smiling at you at regular intervals, wondering how he had become so lucky to take such a beautiful and kind soul as his wife and Erebor’s Queen. 

After breakfast you took Thorn for a long, hot bath. “I am needed in council this morning,” he told you as he began disrobing. 

“I’ve taken care of it all for you. You have no meetings today, and Fili is on hand if anything is needed. The only meeting you have is with your wife. I’ve made sure you are free of any activities today.” You stepped behind Thorin and began unlacing his braids, unclipping the beads from them. 

Your main bath which was joined on to your bed chamber had been filled with hot water and fresh towels were on hand with plenty of soap and sweet-smelling shampoo. Thorin followed your instruction and got into the steaming bath, groaning as the water began to relieve the stress which was pent up throughout his body. Muscles, tense and painful, began to soften. The throbbing at his temples, another sign of his sleepless nights, slowly dissipated. 

“Will you come in with me?” Thorin asked. 

How could you deny him? You looked upon Thorin’s muscular form and felt your own body respond with your need and lust for him. You could feel the warmth winding down your body, pooling the pit of your stomach and downwards between your thighs. Thorin noticed your eyes, heavy with lust, and shifted under the water, placing his arms across the sides of the bath. 

You and Thorin made love in the bath, you on top, guiding your movements. You put your arms around him and kissed his brow, idolising him. This man was your everything: your life, light, heart and soul. Knowing that he was struggling broke your heart, and you wanted to take everything away. When you had both reached your climaxes, you looked down into Thorin’s eyes, still feeling him inside you. “I’d do anything for you,” you whispered. “I love you so much, Thorin.” 

“And I you, _always_ ,” he replied. 

The remainder of the day was spent with you and Thorin enjoying each other’s company. You had re-styled his hair, drawing half back into a braid and clipping it tidily. Then you ventured into the library, where you both sat down opposite each other at one of the reading desks. Thorin read one of the many Dwarven history books, and you rested your head on your arms, listening to his beautiful, silky voice resonate through you. 

Then you took Thorin to show him your plants which you had been growing. He held your hand, delighting in your enthusiasm for the many coloured flowers before you. From a young age, when you lived with your family, and you had always had a love for anything which grew from the ground. 

By the end of the day, you were ready for dinner, which again was served in your bed chamber. You ate slowly, and Thorin began discussing his plans for Dale and sending them aid. You could tell that he was hiding something; this whole time of experiencing bad dreams and you sensed there was something more to it all. 

“What’s bothering you, Thorin?” you asked him, catching him off guard. You wiped your mouth with a napkin and waited for his response. But, as usual, his blue eyes looked down in shame and then back up. Why so much guilt and shame in those beautiful eyes? “I feel there’s something you’re not telling me. And you don’t have to go into it too much as today has been about helping you relax.” 

“It is only fair that I tell you, my love,” Thorin began. He slipped closer to you across the bed, brushing his hand up your cheek. “I am scared.” He looked down again, tears brimming in his eyes. “My dreams are showing me a side of myself that I thought I had fought. But it is still there.” 

“The Dragon Sickness?” you asked. You knew full too well what he had experienced when it came to the sickness, becoming consumed by his need for gold and the Arkenstone. You had seen the greed, anger and unrelenting need in his eyes. But you had promised him that you would do anything to see him broken free from it. And that was when you had declared your love to him. There had been a flash of some kind of recognition, a mutual feeling, and then the glaze of greed had become strong again and he brushed your words off. 

“I cannot bear to think that it would ever take over my love for you,” Thorin admitted. 

“Why do you think it would?” you asked, placing your head against his chest. “You’re stronger than you realise, Thorin.” 

“I never want to put anything before you, and…” His voice broke over the words. 

“Don’t carry on any more. Just lie with me. Relax,” you told him. 

You made love again. It was slow, tender and you kept telling him you loved him. “I will never abandon you,” you whispered as you slipped apart and lay beside him. 

That night Thorin found himself in the darkness of Azog’s ultimatum. “The Arkenstone or she dies!” the pale Orc spat. 

Thorin looked at you, terror alight on your face. “I would choose my wife…a million times over.” And in that instant, he threw the Arkenstone to the ground, watching it shatter. 


	14. Drabble Fourteen

**Imagine it is yours and Thorin's wedding night. You assumed he was sexually experienced, but he's a virgin**

 

 

 

The ceremony was absolutely stunning; the whole of the kingdom had been invited to see you become bound to Thorin and be crowned as Queen that day. You could still hear the cheering ringing in your ears and the loud shouts and singing of groups of Dwarves raising their tankards to their new Queen. 

But once you had left hand in hand with Thorin, leaving many behind to continue their merry making into the early hours, you could feel nerves beginning to become apparent. This was about to be your first night together. 

You both walked down the stone hallway, remaining silent. Thorin looked at you, his blue eyes glancing across every few seconds, admiring your beautiful form which was accented wonderfully by a long, deep blue dress that matched his regal robes. Your heart began to hammer the closer you got to the bed chamber door. This would be your new room now and you would share it with your husband. 

Thorin let you inside, brushing his hand against the small of your back as you slowly entered. You could feel your hands shaking, even though you had had a lover previously, but only one. Thorin had captured your heart in its entirety, unlike your previous lover, who had only seduced you with sweet words and then showed you his manipulative streak. A gut instinct had always told you that he was wrong for you, but you had never listened. However, everything with Thorin felt _right_. Your first kiss with him should have been your first ever kiss, and tonight should have been the night he took your virginity. 

Inside the room, you turned and looked at him, feeling your weakness rise as he approached you slowly. He drew his hand up your cheek and pulled you into a kiss which became deep. You tried to allow your instinct take hold and guide your movements, but your conscious mind would not switch off. All you could think of was how magnificent he was and how disappointed his first night with you would be. Surely he had taken many lovers before you, showing his dominance and passion with them. 

As you drew back from your kiss, you noticed Thorin swallow hard and he looked down. “What’s the matter?” you asked him. 

“I want to please you,” he replied, embarrassment drifting across his cheeks, turning them red. 

“Of course you please me. Why ever would you think you wouldn’t?” you asked in disbelief. How could he be asking such a question. 

“I have never taken anyone before you, my love, and I want you to be pleasured in every way as you deserve,” he replied. “And I wish to live up to your expectations.”

Your eyes were wide. He was a virgin? 

“You find that surprising?” he asked. 

“I do. I just assumed with how handsome you are, and your position, women would be falling over themselves to get to you.” 

Thorin chuckled dryly. “I admit that dwarrowdams often made their intentions clear when I was in my younger years, but I never found anyone worthy to call mine. But now I finally have.” 

“I just wished I had of remained pure for you,” you said, lowering your head in shame. “My past lover was a mistake, and I regret that.”

Thorin brushed your cheek with his hand and smiled at you. “Do not live in regrets. We found each other and that is all that matters.” 

That night you guided Thorin at first, knowing that he was still nervous, and watched his face become full of lust, love and pleasure. Once he felt more confident, he took charge in your second round. Feeling the man you loved so desperately slide inside you made you feel complete and pushed you towards a place of sheer ecstasy. He looked into your eyes. “I always want to please you,” he whispered, and then kissed you softly, before beginning to move and taking your love making into the night. 


	15. Drabble Fifteen

**Imagine Thorin appearing to you when you are anxious and stressed. He curls up with you in bed, comforting you.**

 

 

You curled up in your bed, the curtains drawn and with little to no light around you. The pain in your chest had been worsening and your heart was hammering so fierce that you could feel it pulsating in your throat and ears. The weight of everything was pressing down on you, pushing so tight against your shoulders that you knew you were buckling beneath it all. 

Like you had done every night that week, you cried. The tears poured down your face and the thoughts of all your strains in life would not disappear. They became worse. Flashing through your mind, haunting you. You wanted to scream out into the darkness  _“Leave me alone!”_

The breaking point was now. 

Suddenly you felt a warmth behind you and a soft whisper. “You are strong, my dear one.” You smiled through your tears, knowing that voice. 

Arms came around you from behind, encasing you, protecting you. And then lips kissed your head. 

“My brave one,” he said again, brushing sweaty hair from your brow. 

Those words, telling you you were brave, resonated within you. It was as if only that voice mattered to you, and only that voice could make you feel whole. Your thundering heartbeat began to slow, and the warmth of his embrace spread through you. 

He began singing, rocking you ever so gently. The song was divine, as if angels had come down from heaven for a one on one audience with you. His deep voice soothed you, melting through the tension, stress and worry. The song told of many ages past, of the Dwarf Lords of old. 

You felt him hold your hand tightly and he kissed your head again as the song ended. “You are a fighter,” he whispered. “Know your strength, my dearest. Take hold of it and make it your battle shield.” 

The tears stopped. The hammering heartbeat stopped. And all you felt was warmth, comfort and contentment, wrapped up inside your protector’s arms. This protector was your guiding light and the one who believed in you above everyone else. 

Sleep overcame you and you drifted away, smiling. 

The next morning you woke, opening your eyes to the twittering of birds outside your window. For the first time in days you felt refreshed and not quite as burdened. You smiled and turned over in bed, looking into the empty space beside you. 


	16. Drabble Sixteen

**Imagine you're on the quest to take back Erebor and you hear Thorin groaning. Upon inspection, you find him masturbating, and he starts saying your name, not knowing you can see and hear him.**

 

 

You woke one night, the cold air biting into your skin, clawing away at you. This quest would wind up claiming your life; you were sure of that, and had already resigned yourself to that fact. Not only were you shivering with the cold, but you were thirsty. Your throat had become dry, so you got up from your bedroll next to Bilbo and Balin, and approached the glow of a fire which had been lit for whoever was on look out. It should have been Bombur, but he was sat with his back against a boulder, his hands clasped together and was snoring loudly. You smiled to yourself and grabbed a water skin, glugging a few mouthfuls, and then placed it back in the leather nap sack. If Bombur had fallen asleep then you would take watch in his place.

You sat down a few feet from Bombur, pulling your jacket in around yourself to fight against the cold. But suddenly you heard something. It sounded like groans. What on earth? you thought. Was someone in pain? You decided to follow the sound, hoping no one within the Company was hurt. The groans became slightly louder as you crept away from the sleeping Dwarves. The deepness of the groans sounded like Thorin. You slipped around the trees, coming into a small clearing where the moonlight was shining down, giving a view of what was going on.

Behind a tree remained your hiding place for a couple of minutes as you watched the sight before you, and instantly you felt warmth spread through you, pooling into a moisture between your thighs. Thorin was stood with his back to a tree, his hand in his breeches, pleasuring himself. Licking your lips, you continued watching, tempted to find your own climax by watching him and the mesmerising rhythm that his hand was making and the way his head was titled back, the moonlight dancing across his expressions of intense ecstasy. The next thing made you shiver, in anticipation and arousal, but also shock.

Thorin whispered your name. Had you heard correctly or were you imagining this? In your want for Thorin could you have been willing to hear him whisper your name whilst in such a vulnerable act? He whispered your name again, and this time his hand got faster. Instinct took over and you dashed around behind the trees, sincerely hoping he wouldn’t hear you. Thankfully he didn’t. His attention was completely bound in his current situation.

The cold of the night no longer mattered; the arousal and instinctual need for pleasure had warmed you to the core. “Do you need help with that?” you whispered, appearing before him from behind the tree.


	17. Drabble Seventeen (Part 1)

** Imagine telling Thorin you preferred the dominating and rough sex when he suffered from Dragon Sickness **

 

How could you admit to your husband that the best sex you had had was when he was battling Dragon Sickness? He had been feral and primal in those moments when had grabbed you roughly and pushed you against the throne, pulling your dress up. He took you hard, his hands holding you in place and his hot breath wafting across your neck, back and throat. “You will give me a son!” he had demanded, pounding against you.

Afterwards, when Thorin had re-gained lucidity and gained victory at the Battle of Five Armies, he had apologised for his actions and made love to you, showing his tender and loving side. But deep down you yearned for the raw passion and rough domination. You had been masturbating regularly, fantasising about that night, recollecting the way the waves of pleasure mounted so quickly, tipping you off the edge of such a great height. The intensity of your orgasm that night had ripped your throat raw as you screamed, and never again since had you experienced such amazing sensations. Your usual love making to Thorin left you satisfied only temporarily; your orgasms were hot and enough to leave you tired, but you woke in the middle of the night, wanting more.

One evening whilst Thorin was still in council, you rocked your body against your hand, your fingers sliding in and out. You could hear his voice at your ear, demanding you give him an heir, conceiving the next generation of his bloodline. The fire was raging, burning to the point of being out of control. But it wasn’t enough. You came, shuddering on the bed.

And then Thorin came into the room. He immediately noticed your flush cheeks and the way you were rushing back under the covers, hiding something shameful. “I must speak with you,” he said, approaching the bed and sitting on the chair beside it. “Something is wrong between us.”

You reached out and took your husband’s hand, and felt guilt hit you hard in the stomach.

“You are distracted, my love,” he whispered. “And I know you are not fully satisfied, and to the point that you are pleasuring yourself. You should not be resorting to that. It is my duty as your husband to satisfy you. What am I not doing?” “How can I be honest with you?” you replied, drawing in a deep breath and sitting up. “Are you not attracted to me? Is that it?” Thorin asked, sadness filling his handsome face.

You moved across the bed quickly and brushed your hand up his face. “Never that. Never,” you insisted. “Please do not think that at all. I just....” you swallowed hard, trying to mentally prepare yourself. “When we made love the first time on your throne, when you had the sickness...”

“I do not need to hear any more,” Thorin replied. “You yearn for my touch as it was then.”

“I want fire, domination and raw lust,” you admitted.

Thorin’s eyes seemed to hold unsaid words, and slowly he moved towards you, slipping onto the bed. He took your lips in a harsh kiss and moved over you. He took your wrists, pinning them to the bed. “All you had to do was ask, my love,” he whispered and grinned.


	18. Drabble Seventeen (Part 2)

**Imagine sex with Thorin after you admitted you like being dominated**

 

When you had told Thorin that your wish was to be dominated during your love making, the Dwarf King, your husband did not hold back. He pinned your wrists to the bed and sucked against your neck, listening to your loud groans of delight. When his hands began shifting beneath your night dress, he could feel your shivers. There was a definite change in your behaviour, he noticed in comparison to your ‘normal’ love making.

Suddenly Thorin dragged at your night dress, growling under his breath. It tore instantly under his strong, forceful grip. His eyes were alight, their blue shade having turned darker. Then you felt his hips slam against yours and his hands gripped you tight, drawing a tinge of pain which mingled so pleasurably with your arousal. You moaned again and threw your head back, nearly laughing at what was about to come, the very thing you had been waiting on now for months.

Thorin then flipped you around and tugged at your hair, pulling you upwards so you were now on your knees. “The rightful place for you before a King is on your knees,” he told you, his voice possessive. His hand gripped your hair tighter whilst his other hand held your hip firmly, and you could distinctly feel his erection against your backside. The feeling of it made you squirm and moan. Thorin merely chuckled in response. Then he sifted through the curls between your legs, his fingers massaging through the moisture.

You were taken completely off guard when you felt him pull you completely upwards, so your back was against his chest, you having risen off the bed. His strength made your arousal burn so much hotter, your peak coming to meet you so quickly. His lips began suckling on your neck again and his one hand continued stroking your pulsing sex. Thorin’s other hand teased your breast and then moved upward, clasping around your neck. “You will give me an heir,” he whispered in your ear. Those words made you shudder. Tonight you would be his for one purpose, to conceive, and you would both give in to the animal, primal instincts you shared with every other living creature, the need to procreate.

Thorin continued stroking you, knowing you were close. He could tell from your breathing as it was becoming gasps. With a smirk and chuckle, he pushed you down to the bed, your back still facing him. You tried to turn around, but he grabbed you and twisted you back into the position he wanted. “No, you will do as I instruct. Back to me,” he growled.

In one fluid movement as he pulled you back against him by your hair, he was inside you. A loud, pent up groan shot through the room, coming up from your deepest depths. And he moved, pumping fast, and then got quicker. The unbearably pleasurable heat was consuming you as he thrust back and forth, your skin slapping furiously against each other. The whole time and Thorin’s hand remained in your hair as he rode you, keeping complete control of the pace.

Suddenly the fire exploded and you came, shouting out, unable to hold it all back. Thorin felt your body shaking around him, and the sound of you you almost screaming made his climax race towards him, until he pushed you forwards, grabbing your hips hard, making you yelp. And he came, animal growls bursting from his throat.

Once you were both spent, you fell down against each other, still panting. You looked at Thorin, smiling at him as small aftershocks still shot through you and gradually the heat died away. He brushed his hand down your cheek and then kissed you softly.


End file.
